Salem's Noose
by Hav0ck
Summary: Welcome to Salem's Noose. We're a quaint little town. That is, if you're prepared to ignore the arsony, the murder, the mafia? Take a seat, nonetheless. Because now you're here, you may want to know. No-one leaves Salem's Noose.
1. Salem's Noose

**(I've decided to begin a new series. It's based off of the different roles of the Town of Salem, and how they came to live, and, eventually, how their time in Salem came to end. Or did it? Only time can tell. Welcome, to Salem's Noose.)**

 **Tales from Salem's Noose**

Ancient legend tells of a tow, throughout history.

To many, the name of this town means nothing, even less due to its missing mark on the map. But to others, the name is enough to ignite a cruel, terrible fear. The name itself, of this place, is enough to send fingers of terror caressing any of these unlucky mens spine.

Welcome, to Salem's Noose.

Many of you know the stories, the burning of the Witches, the maddened lynchings. The simple stories of Salem.

Wrong...wrong...wrong, in comparison to Salem's Noose. Not a side town, no, but unknown. No man can find Salem's Noose, unless **they** will him to. Some make themselves a living in Salem's Noose, of the backs and pain of others. That's the only life in Salem's Noose. The Mafia has its hand in this hole of sin and treachery, a hovel of serial killers, arsonists, escorts and god knows what else.

Many speak of the supernatural, in Salem's Noose. It's not unbelievable, many here believe God would punish us this way.

Welcome to Salem's Noose.

You'll never leave.


	2. The Bodyguard

**The Bodyguard**

Strong, burly, ever since age 16 it seemed a convincing job path in anything that required a muscleman. I took that path, of course.

I am, a bodyguard, if that's the right word. I protect…or at least, used to protect, the highest bidder. Wherever the most money lay, that's also where my allegiances lay. It's a tough world out there, and having a monetary supporter is like a torch against the darkness of unemployment, homelessness, those cold dark nights where the wind rattles your bones.

I spent many years in a good field of employment, in the big city, you see. My…benefactor, yes, that's the word, paid me well, and I believed that I was on a good path for a while. That was until the incident.

Turns out the guy I had been working for was a kingpin, illegal weaponry trade. I was dumbfounded, did this put me on the wrong side of the law? The crook still expected me to fight off the SWAT squads coming up the building, and frankly, I wasn't up for that kind of job.

I'm strong, and my will's hardened, but at the time, I wasn't going to shoot cops.

At the time, being the operative words. As I made for the emergency stairs, I realized, there was a whole vault of guns, cash and checks. And I had the combination, right here in my pocket. My PDA was hammering out like a bomb. I left it in the boss's room, no need for something that'll most likely get me killed, rather than save my ass.

I got to the vault. Heavy duty stuff. The boss had spent millions getting it together. It was several metres thick. In all honesty, no crook was getting through that. Save for me.

I keyed in the combination. The vault cracked open, and I saw several briefcases. When I snapped them open to check their contents, I saw something that would make most scream in joy. Wads and wads of cold cash. Millions, maybe even billions, stored in this vault, at my fingertips. I would have taken it.

I damn wish I had.

Because if I had taken that money, if I hadn't of paused and thought 'This is blood money', then I wouldn't be where I am now. Because what was a moment's hesitation was a room sweep for the police. They found me, and though they may not have been prepared, I certainly was.

I remember the room now, oh God all too vividly. A shotgun bucked in my hands. A young lad, a low ranking officer, hit the floor, chest ripped open, body spasming and spouting jets of blood. That was my first murder. Another six officers followed him that day. There was more than guns in that vault, grenades, Kevlar vests, a full armoury. Yet I chucked most of it afterwards. Why?

Because in my hands, I had held not only a murder weapon, that had caused suffering by my very own hands, but one that would go on to cause many more years of suffering. I knew where those gun trade guns were going, but, damnit, I couldn't let them. That building, that, **disgusting** , corporation, burned to the ground a day after, and with it, all my life plans.

The police were hunting for me, a man supposedly armed to the teeth, a dangerous individual. That part wounded me. I wasn't dangerous, was I? I only did, what I thought was truly right.

It's lonely, when you know walk alone.

I spent years on the streets, penniless, with my wits and strength as my two brethren. I did things I regret. Those were dark years, but not as dark as now.

I walked for many miles, till I left that city. I couldn't stay there any more, the memories haunted me too much. I walked, and walked, till I saw a village. It looked quaint, and little did I know that ahead of me stood Devil's ground.

I walked into the town, under the sign. I should have turned tail then, at the hangman's noose that swayed in the village, the dead silence of the village. _Salem's Noose_ , the sign had read. If there was anywhere to start new work, it was here.

And that's how I am where I am now. Saving the town from the corrupt, the supernatural, and the downright evil that haunt this filthy hellhole. Last night I got myself locked up in the town jail, just to save myself from the iron fist of the Mafia that haunt this place. I sit here, on my bed. I couldn't get a job tonight. I'm not safe, hell, I'll never be safe.

My empty pistol sits by my side. Those who I defend keep the bullets. An idiotic method, but the only way to save myself from a lynching. They hang for anything here.

I hear the door creak now.

My time approaches.

Remember me.


End file.
